SUPER-DUDE

“Stand behind me,” said Clifford. He pulled on a red hat and cape. “I’ll keep you from harm.”

I clutched my notebook close. The beating of my heart made it bounce against my chest. All I wanted was to write a story about a modern psychiatric hospital, something that I could get published. The one I wrote about the Northgate asylum nearly got me committed. No reputable newspaper would touch a ghost story. If I survived this riot I just might have something.

“Out of the way Super-Dude,” said a patient holding a metal pipe. “I want that pretty girl.”

“I won’t allow you to harm her. Turn away or I will be forced to use my powers.”

Pipe man and his three friends laughed. My stomach twisted. The guards were dead or soon would be. All that stood between me and this crazed mob was a sweet little lunatic who thought he was a super hero.

“I’m gonna shove that cape and helmet of invisibility down your throat,” said Pipe man. He marched forward, his face twisted in a sneer.

My friend shook his head. “You’ve been warned.”

Clifford vanished. The inmates gaped at the empty space where he had stood. So did I. A second later Pipe guy fell to the ground. Blood streamed from his nose. When the second man fell, his friends fled.

My hero stood guard until the riot ended. I had quite a story to tell—one that only Super-Dude would believe.